Death and a Dog

“Well, evidently the Brits have a different interpretation of the word automatic,” he said haughtily. “Because no money has been deposited in my bank account, and if you weren’t aware, the deadline is today! So I suggest you get on the phone to your bank immediately and resolve the situation.”

He sounded just like a headmaster. Lacey half-expected him to finish his monologue with the phrase, “you silly little girl.”

She squeezed the cell phone, tightly, trying her hardest not to let David get to her, not today, the day before her auction that she was so looking forward to!

“What a clever suggestion, David,” she replied, wedging the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could free her hands and use them to log onto her online bank account. “I’d never have thought to do that myself.”

Her words were met by silence. David had probably never heard her use sarcasm before, and it had thrown him. She blamed Tom for that. Her new beau’s English sense of humor was rubbing off on her very quickly.

“You’re not taking this very seriously,” David replied, once he’d finally caught up.

“Should I be?” Lacey replied. “It’s just a mix-up at the bank. I can probably get it taken care of by the end of the day. In fact, yes, there’s a notice here on my account.” She clicked on the little red icon and an information box popped up. She read it aloud. “‘Due to the bank holiday, any scheduled payment dates that fall on either Sunday or Monday will reach accounts on Tuesday.’ Aha. There you go. I knew it would be something simple. A bank holiday.” She paused and looked out the window at the throng of passing people. “I did think the streets looked extra busy today.”

She could practically hear David grinding his teeth through the speaker.

“It’s actually extremely inconvenient,” he snapped. “I do have bills to pay, you know.”

Lacey looked over at Chester, as if in need of a comrade in this particularly frustrating conversation. He raised his head off his paws and quirked up an eyebrow.

“Can’t Frida lend you a couple million bucks if you’re short?”

“Eda,” David corrected.

Lacey knew full well the name of David’s new fiancée. But she and Naomi had taken to calling her Fortnight Frida, in reference to the speed with which the two had gotten engaged and now she couldn’t think of her as anything else.

“And no,” he continued. “She shouldn’t have to. Who even told you about Eda?”

“My mother might have let it slip on one or two dozen occasions. What are you doing talking to my mom anyway?”

“She’d been a part of my family for fourteen years. I didn’t divorce her.”

Lacey sighed. “No. I guess not. So what’s the plan? The three of you go and bond over a mani-pedi?”

Now she was trying to wind him up, and she couldn’t help herself. It was quite fun.

“You’re being ridiculous,” David said.

“Isn’t she the heiress to a false nail emporium?” she said with feigned innocence.

“Yes, but you don’t have to say it like that,” David said, in a voice that catapulted the image of his pout-face right into Lacey’s mind’s eye.

“I was just speculating on how the three of you will likely spend your time together.”

“With a tone of criticism.”

“Mom tells me she’s young,” Lacey said, changing course. “Twenty. I mean, I think twenty might be a little too young for a man your age, but at least she’s got a full nineteen years to work out whether she wants children or not. Thirty-nine is the cut-off point for you, after all.”

No sooner had she said it than she realized just how much like Taryn she sounded. She shuddered. While she had no qualms over Tom’s mannerisms rubbing off on her, she most certainly drew the line at Taryn’s!

“Sorry,” she mumbled, back-tracking. “That was uncalled for.”

David let a beat pass. “Just get me my money, Lace.”

The call went dead.

Lacey sighed and put the phone down. As infuriating as the conversation had been, she was absolutely determined not to let it bring her down. David was in her past now. She’d built a whole new life for herself here in Wilfordshire. And anyway, David moving on with Eda was a blessing in disguise. She wouldn’t have to pay him alimony anymore once they married, and the problem would be solved! But knowing the way things usually went for her, she had the feeling it would be a very long engagement.

CHAPTER TWO

Lacey was in the middle of her valuing work when, out the window, Taryn finally moved her huge van, and the view to Tom’s store across the cobblestone streets opened up. The gingham Easter-themed bunting had been replaced with summer-themed bunting, and Tom had upgraded his macaron display so that it now depicted a tropical island scene. Lemon macarons made up the sand, surrounded by a sea of different blues—turquoise (cotton candy flavor), baby blue (bubblegum flavor), dark blue (blueberry flavor) and navy blue (blue raspberry flavor). Tall stacks of chocolate macarons, coffee macarons, and peanut macarons formed the bark of palm trees, and the leaves had been constructed out of marzipan; another food-based material Tom was proficient at working with. The window display was awe-inspiring, not to mention mouth-watering, and it always drew a huge crowd of excited tourist spectators.

Looking through the window to the counter, Lacey could see Tom behind it, busy delighting his customers with his theatrical displays.

She sank her chin onto her fist and let out a dreamy sigh. So far, things with Tom had been going wonderfully. They were officially “dating,” which was Tom’s choice of word, not hers. During their “defining the relationship” discussion, Lacey had put forth the argument that it was an inadequate and childish term for two full-grown adults embarking on a romantic journey together, but Tom pointed out that since she wasn’t employed by Merriam-Webster, the terminology wasn’t really hers to decide. She’d conceded on that particular point, but drew the line at the terms ‘girlfriend’ and ‘boyfriend’. They were yet to decide on the appropriate terms to refer to one another and usually defaulted to ‘dear’.

Suddenly, Tom was looking at her and waving. Lacey jerked up, her cheeks warming at the realization he’d just caught her gazing at him like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Tom’s waving gesture turned into a beckoning, and Lacey suddenly realized what the time was. Ten past eleven. Tea time! And she was ten minutes late for their daily Elevenses!

“Come on, Chester,” she said quickly, as excitement leapt into her breast. “It’s time to visit Tom.”

She practically ran out of the store, only just remembering to flip her ‘Open’ sign over so it read ‘back in 10 minutes’ and lock the door. Then she hop-skipped across the cobblestone street toward the patisserie, her heart beat thump-thump-thumping in time with her bouncy steps, as her excitement at seeing Tom ratcheted up.

Just as Lacey reached the door of the patisserie, the group of Chinese vacationers Tom had been entertaining moments earlier came streaming out. Each was clutching an extremely large brown paper bag stuffed full of delicious-smelling goodies, chattering and giggling to each other. Lacey held the door patiently, waiting for them to file past, and they politely bowed their heads in thanks.

Once the path was finally clear, Lacey went inside.

“Hello, my dear,” Tom said, a large grin lighting up his handsome, golden-hued face, making laugh lines appear beside his twinkling green eyes.

“I see your groupies just left,” Lacey joked, coming toward the counter. “And they bought a ton of merchandise.”

“You know me,” Tom replied, with an eyebrow wiggle. “I’m the world’s first pastry chef with a fan club.”

He seemed to be in a particularly jovial mood today, Lacey thought, not that he ever seemed anything but sunny. Tom was one of those people who seemed to breeze through life unperturbed by the usual stresses that got the best of us down. It was one of the things Lacey adored about him. He was so different from David, who would get stressed by the smallest of irritants.

She reached the counter and Tom stretched up on his arms to kiss her over it. Lacey let herself get lost in the moment, only breaking apart when Chester began to whine his displeasure at being ignored.

“Sorry, buddy,” Tom said. He came out from behind the counter and offered Chester a chocolate-free carob treat. “There you go. Your favorite.”

Chester licked the treats right out of Tom’s hand, then let out a long sigh of satisfaction and sank down to the floor for a snooze.

“So, what tea is on the menu today?” Lacey asked, taking her usual stool at the counter.

“Chicory,” Tom said.

He headed into the kitchen at the back.

“I haven’t had that before,” Lacey called out.